Crutchy's Revenge
by Dragonsong1
Summary: Crutchy's jealous of David's high standing in the newsies. This is a series of attempts on David's life.


**Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I don't own the newsies. **

**A.N: This is just an idea I got a while back... Hope it's not too stupid. :-) **

Crutchy sat, hidden from view, watching David selling his papers. Perfect, wholesome, handsome Davie; the one who'd replaced him as Jack's right hand man. Things had been great before _he'd_ showed up. Crutchy had been the Best Friend, second only to Jack, one of the big dogs! And then Davie-boy had come, with his home-boy prissiness, hidden only by a thin veil of borrowed street smarts. When he had first shown up, Crutchy had looked down on him, safe on his high pedestal. Then the Strike happened. Stupid, wimpy Davie just _had_ to jump to the top, to ruin everything. But now Crutchy was going to make him pay. A faint sneer touched his lips as Crutchy looked down at the piece of cheese in his hands, thinking back to the day before...

The bell above the door rang as Crutchy walked into the shop of one of his oldest friends, the one known as The Poo Doctor. A short, stocky young woman with wildly curling blonde hair appeared out of the back office at the sound of his arrival.

"And during my lunch break too," she was muttering, but seeing who it was, exclaimed, "Crutchy! It's good ta see you! What can I do fo' yas today? Some digest'ble biscuits perhaps? Ya haven't been eatin' that cheese have ya? It'll stop ya right up, ya know." She paused, giving him a knowing look and tapping the side of her nose.

"Actually," he replied, scuffing the ground with his boot, "I's was lookin' fo' someone else..."

"Oh, everyone's a bit embarrassed abou' poo problems. Come on, tell me, love, 's it loose, hard, or gas? I's got everything right here."

"Erm..." he stammered, going a bit red, "Actually, um... I'll just look around a little, if that's all right with you."

"Sure, sure I'll be tight back here if ya need anythin'," she replied, giving him a wicked look. Crutchy wandered around the shop, examining the rows of digestibles, laxatives, and other bowel remedies.

_Hmm... a laxative would work nicely, but I want him to be in pain. _Crutchy thought to himself, stroking his chin. His friend's words echoed in his head, _It'll stop ya right up, ya know... That's it!_ Saying good-bye to the Doctor, he walked out of the shop and ran to the cheese shop down the street.

Strolling down the aisle, examining wheels of cheddar, mozzarella, and gorgonzola cheese and ignoring the suspicious looks of the portly shop owner, Crutchy looked for the perfect variety. Unsure, he wandered down to the section marked 'Des Fromages du France.' As he entered the area, he was immediately beset by an extremely pungent stench. Steadying himself against a shelf, he gazed at the varieties offered. He chuckled as he read a warning sign hanging over the shelf. 'Caution, This Cheese _Must_ Be Eaten with Fiber Rich Foods! Store Not Responsible for any Gastrointestinal Problems Caused.' Walking over to the stinkiest cheese he could find and looking over his shoulder to make sure the shopkeeper wasn't watching, he snatched a chunk off the wheel and set for the door of the shop.

Quickly, he walked down the street towards where he had last seen David. _Ah, perfect,_ he thought; David was eating his lunch. Crutchy sneered when he saw what he was eating, a homemade salami sandwich on rye bread with an apple. _Probably made with love too,_ he thought mockingly. But as he neared, he put on his best goofy, best friend grin.

"Hey Davie! How ya doin'?" he asked as he stood beside him, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "Here, I got some extra cheese here, ya want it?"

"Um... sure. Thanks Crutchy," David said, sounding kind of confused. _Well, I better have some to be polite,_ he thought, steeling himself and taking a bite out of the aromatic cheese. "Erm, you want some?" he asked, holding out the rest.

"No, no... you have it," Crutchy responded, quickly backing away. "I'll see ya around then!" He walked off, stifling his snickers until he'd rounded the corner. David watched him go, chewing on his mouthful of French cheese. "Ugh," he grunted, feeling his stomach start to cramp up. "It's a good thing Mom packed me some prune juice..."

The next morning, Crutchy limped into the distribution center. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the pigeons attacking people, and Davie-boy was dead! Turning the corner, he was met with a horrifying sight.

"Hey Crutchy!" David shouted out, "You need to tell me where you got that cheese!"


End file.
